


Let Her Go

by kittybenzedrine



Category: Umbrella Academy
Genre: Asexual Character, Borderline Obsessive Behavior, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, One-Sided Attraction, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 09:23:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4601511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittybenzedrine/pseuds/kittybenzedrine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loving a girl like Allison was a hard task within itself, but he did it anyways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Her Go

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Title taken from the song 'Let Her Go' by Passenger

He wasn't quite sure when, but somewhere around 15 or 16 years old, Klaus realized his gaze was lingering on Allison. It was quite normal for him, really. Since he'd begun doing drugs, things had changed. Really, he'd had some sort of inkling towards all of his 'siblings' at some point or another. He'd even caught himself thinking about _Space_ of all people.

But... Towards her, it had felt different. It had unnerved him, so naturally, he went to Ben and talked to them about it. Ben had rolled their eyes at him and told him it'd pass, just as his crush on all the others had gone away. His genderless sibling was usually right, so he ignored it for a remarkably long time.

He was forced to come to terms with it at around 20, while they got high together in his bedroom. They'd had some alcohol before smoking, and were both reasonably out of it. He hadn't skimped out, either. He had gotten the good stuff to smoke with her.

"I really don't understand that, man."

"I don't see why. It's really not that hard to comprehend."

"So, like, you mean... You don't... But you're not a virgin?"

"And? My partners enjoyed it, that's what mattered."

"So..." She raised a bare foot up and pressed it to his crotch, kneading her toes against him. "That doesn't turn you on?"

He raised a brow at her, taking a drag from his joint before replying. He assumed, in the roughly 30 second pause, that she could feel him getting hard. "My body reacts, sure. But I don't feel the need to act on it. I don't _want_ to act on it, really."

Allison's brows creased, and she withdrew her foot. "That's weird as fuck. Sex is so great! I really don't see how you don't like it."

He shrugged at her, passing the joint. "It's honestly not even that good to me. It's like, 'Oh, I came. That's cool, I guess', and it's the same way with masturbation. If I find someone I want to be with, and they want sex, I'll give it to them and make sure they feel good. Otherwise, it's absolutely no loss to me."

She got on her knees, his mattress squeaking faintly under her movement. She snubbed the joint out before she made her way across the bed, straddling his lap.

Her eyes were big, and blue, and beautiful. They reminded him of the mid-afternoon sky. They were lightly lined with black, nothing dramatic like Vanya's, when she was home. He felt something in his chest twist when she brought her face closer, and a tiny thought and a few ghosts whispered for him to kiss her, and in that moment he had to come to terms with the fact that he had it bad for her.

"You're fucking weird," she whispered with a grin, and he gave her a lazy smile back.

"You say that like I don't already know that, you silly darling."

 

\---  
Ben had been dead for nearly a year, Klaus had three more years before he ended up in Shinyview, and only Klaus and Vanya, and Klaus and Allison had kept in contact. Allison had called earlier, voice monotone, asking to come over. Of course, he'd told her yes. He was always happy to see her.

As soon as she'd arrived and they'd gotten comfortable on the hanging swing on back porch, she'd burst into tears. That had thrown him off. He let her cry against her, rubbing her back and murmuring soothing things, just as Ben had done to him at several points in their teenage years.

"Patrick left me," she managed out, and he felt a selfishly happy pang run through his chest. He continued to comfort her, letting her use his t-shirt to wipe her eyes and nose. It didn't matter, he had a long sleeved shirt under that one.

The icy wind ruffled their hair, and she pulled her jacket tighter around herself, hiccuping and burying her face against his chest. He'd never make her cry, if he had her. He'd do anything to make her happy.

Using his telekinetics, he made the swing lightly rock, hoping to soothe her enough to make her stop crying. Shockingly enough, it had worked. She drew her feet up, leaning against him, welcoming the gentle brush of his long, thin fingers in her short hair.

"I'm pregnant," she told him in a low, choked voice, hand fisted into the hem of his untucked shirts, exposing some of his skin between his pants and shirts. "He doesn't know. I don't think he'd want it anyways."

Her knuckles were warm against his flesh, the skin she'd exposed quickly becoming cold in the winter air. He was speaking before he even realized it, his thoughts tumbling from his mouth.

"Eh. I could do it. Help you with it. Get clean, cut back on the drinking. Raise it up, love it like my own."

She snorted at his words, head still on his chest, and he realized with a sinking heart that she though he was joking.

"I mean it," he said lightly. "Get clean and take care of the both of you. Never, ever drink in front of them. Learn how to change diapers and bathe them. Walk them to school every day. Throw shitty, cute little birthday parties that Mom would approve of. Give the both of you the lives you deserve. Be a better father to it then that old fuck was to us."

Allison was quiet for a while, and he very seriously hoped she was considering his words. He had meant every word of it. He would give her anything. Give her and that baby a good life. And if she wanted more children, he'd give her all the red and violet haired babies she wanted and love them too. If she wanted a house full of cats and dogs, he'd vacuum every day to help with her allergies. Twice a day, if needed.

"You're good moral support," she told him eventually, removing her hand from his shirts and putting her head in his lap. He moved his hand to her side, resting it in the soft curve between her hip and ribs, resisting the urge to move it further down and cup her belly. "Ben taught you well."

She didn't believe him. He didn't take it personally, though he had to force himself not to cry. Her wanted her so badly, but he wanted her happy more than anything.

For the longest time, they remained silent, looking out into his woodsy backyard, breathing in the cold air, still using his power to rock them. She didn't stop him when he finally slid his hand down, lightly caressing her still flat stomach.

He didn't know how to convey to her that he was serious. He could look get dead in the eyes and tell her with a perfectly straight face that he was serious, and she'd still smile and tell him that he was high.

Eventually, she got up, telling him that she needed to get home and tell him, start packing if he still didn't want her. He stripped off the snotty shirt and hugged her, telling her that she was always welcomed there, that his home was hers. Allison had hugged him tighter and told him that she appreciated it.

She'd left, and he decided to start getting clean that night. It was hard, so hard. But he did it, for her. For that baby. He'd even started thinking about converting one of the guest rooms into a nursery. And after a month of little drugs, less alcohol, and zero contact from her, she called. Told him in an overjoyed voice that her and Patrick were getting married. He'd barely managed to congratulate her, and after a bit of gushing, she hung up to call Mom next.

He didn't remember that night, only that he woke up with an empty, smashed Jack bottle on the kitchen floor and fresh track marks up his left arm. He assumed he'd drank the whole bottle, as it had been unopened and under his bed.

He'd shown up for the wedding three months later, politely telling her that she looked good and was barely showing. Everyone but Space and Hargreeves had shown up, and Vanya had squeezed his hand under the table while he drank more than was polite.

After the main receptions, she'd asked him opinions on names. He'd shrugged, giving her girl names because everyone was convinced it was a boy. Suggested Catherine, Claire, and Reece.

He had a smug sense of victory when she called a few months later, sounding so worn out and wonderful, telling him about her violet haired baby girl Claire.

 

\---  
He wasn't sure why he was back. He'd gotten very drunk and asked the taxi man to take him home. Since it was the usual guy that he ended up with, he assumed he'd wake up later at his pretty little house outside of the city. He found himself at the bunker instead.

She'd shattered his heart yet again, in that ambulance. Told that ungrateful monkey-bodied fuck that she loved him, and he rejected her. Really, it had always been obvious that she loved him, but he could pretend.

Really, he was just a mess of a broken heart. The Vietnamese woman he'd married had died having their baby, and then he'd had to leave his little girl in the past, to make her grow up an orphan.

The couch was comfortable. Space had broken it in well. He had dosed off, and awoken to Allison gently covering him with a blanket. Their eyes met and he peeled it back, offering to let her lay down with him. She'd shocked him by actually taking his offer and settling against him.

He pet her hair, staying still, relaxing when he was sure she was asleep. He listened to the sound of their breathing mingling, hers holding a rhythm to it.

"Allison?"

She didn't reply. He stared at the steel ceiling, south of sober, soft-spoken words spilling from his mouth before he could stop himself.

"All those years ago, when Patrick had first left you, when you found out you were pregnant with Claire, I meant every word I said. I would have gotten clean. I started to, relapsed when you told me you were marrying him. But I meant what I told you. I would have been completely sober by the time she was born. I would have loved her like she had been my own.

"I'd do all that dad-type shit. Take her to the park all the time and walk her to school, take her to Ben's favorite I've cream shop. Hell, I'd fight for custody with you. I'll still love her like she was mine. I'd do anything for you, Allison.

"I'd marry you in a heartbeat, if you wanted it. I'd still get clean and cut back on drinking. I know we're getting a bit too old, but if you still wanted kids, I'd give you all the like violet haired and redheaded babies you wanted. I'd clean house for you, vacuum daily if you wanted pets. If you wanted it, I'd make love to you every night. Twice a night."

He realized that he could feel her heart thudding against him, she that she wasn't asleep like he'd thought she was. Fuck it. She'd heard most of it, he might as well finish it.

"I'd do anything for your happiness, Allison. If... If you wanted to be with another man while you were with me, I'd turn a blind eye. I'd cherish you and take care of you like the princess you deserve to be treated like. I'd do it all for you. And if it's not me that you want, then I'll live with it, because I want you to be happy. Because I love you."

He lightly draped an arm around her, just under her breasts. Her heart was erratic, and her breathing was just a bit too fast for her to even be pretending to be asleep.

"And... If you don't feel the same for me, and you know you're not going to consider it, you're going to pretend I never said any of that, and we never have to mention it ever again. But if you do give me the chance, I'll stay true to every word I said."

He stayed silent after that. A painful, heart wrenching half hour passed by, before she gently rolled off of him and quietly made her way to the bathroom. He got up, only stumbling a bit as he steadied himself. He was most of the way done folding the blanket when Allison existed the bathroom, locking eyes with him. A small flutter pressed in Klaus' chest, a spark of hope igniting.

"... I'm heading to bed. It's been a pretty exhausting day for all of us." She swallowed hard, his heart sinking as he nodded.

"Alright. I'm going to head home, anyways. Tell Claire I said hi next time you talk to her," he told her nonchalantly, setting the folded fabric on the sofa. He made his way to the ladder, carefully avoiding her. "Goodnight, Allison."

"Goodnight, Klaus. Be careful."

"Sleep well," he told her, opting to climb rather than float to the top. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to do once he left, but he wasn't going home and whatever he did, it was going to be destructive. Self-destructive, more than likely.

Though he knew she wouldn't, he hoped she would call in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually don't ship this at all, and I never picture Klaus as ace, but I've had this idea floating around for a while. I'm also glad I got it out because it's just the right amount of heartbreak!
> 
> Also Allison and Klaus would have the prettiest babies ever. You know it's true.


End file.
